


At Least Be Sympathetic

by Keitmeg



Series: Zosan Package [7]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bedside Vigils, Caring Roronoa Zoro, Chronic Pain, Eventual Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji, Fainting, Idiots in Love, Injury Recovery, Jealous VInsmoke Sanji, M/M, Major Character Injury, Roronoa Zoro Being an Asshole, Secret Relationship, Seizures, Vomiting, Zoro is Bad At Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-23 00:00:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12493848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keitmeg/pseuds/Keitmeg
Summary: A threat of a disability and two idiots in love not knowing how to lift the veil off their feelings.





	1. The Onset

**Author's Note:**

> Beware of the tags! You've been warned.  
> Not betaed, feel free to correct or con-cri.  
> Enjoy!

 

 

 

Sanji is a cook. He’s always aspired to be a cook –the best in the world. He even went against his own father to make that dream come true. He wasn’t ready to sit back and watch per view as his dream crumble own to nothing but ash.

 

It’s a peaceful evening, and the Thousand Sunny is meandering her way through the ripples of the sea. Each of the Straw Hat crew is wrapped up in their own thing so they would trudge through the drag of the day without a complaint. Unless the navy came out with all guns blazing, the Straw Hats had no complaints.

Sanji and Zoro are below deck inside the empty compartment, in the middle of kissing, when Usopp’s obnoxious voice echoes across the ship, warning the crew about another ship approaching.

Zoro pulls away and faces the ceiling, the deep creak of Sunny’s entire structure reverberating like a rumble. He looks back at Sanji and sneers at the flustered face before him.

“You look like you want more.” He states, thumbing Sanji’s bottom lip.

Sanji’s glazed look hardens, and he slaps Zoro’s hand away. “Who does, bastard?”

Zoro watches with amusement how Sanji fixes the collar of his shirt and exits the room. He follows suits soon after.

 

They go up to the third floor, finding Franky by the helm with Robin standing next to him. The rest perched by the handrail at the left side of the lawn deck, staring at the steel-hulled, five-masted and fully rigged, merchant sailing ship, with a beautifully sculptured figurehead of a woman praying, nearing theirs.

“Awesome!” Luffy gushes, eyes turning sparkly.

“What’s going on?” Sanji demanded, now stepping closer to the tree next to the handrail.

“Good evening,” A male voice blares off the speakers hooked to the top of the tallest spar on the ship, “I am called Tsui, captain of this ship. I come to you in peace.”

“Biggest lie ever told” Nami finishes for him.

“Takes one to know one,” Zoro declares from the side.

Nami punches him as a thank you for his trouble.

“What do you want?” Usopp squeaks, that unmistakable tremble in his voice giving away his fear.

“I’d like to have a talk with you, if that’s alright.” The man requests, his Denisovan head finally appearing from the paling when he looks down at the Straw Hats.

“I don’t think we should let him on the ship.” Brook is trying to be the voice of reason, “we don’t even know anything about him –”

“Sure!” Luffy waves from his spot, “you’re welcome on my ship!”

Sanji and Zoro and Nami whack him on the head. But the man still ends up on their lawn deck. Franky and Robin stand ready by the helm, and the rest surround the man and his two tall and lanky companions.

“You needn’t be on guard. I am not a pirate nor am I a threat.” He said, motioning to his two men to drop their guards. “I’ve been sailing on these waters for eleven years, and I’ve never wished to make enemies.”

“Old man talks too much,” Sanji mumbles but he is surprised when Zoro, who is standing beside him with his muscled arms crossed over his puffed-out chest, gives a half smile.

“That’s probably the only thing worrisome about this guy.”

Much to his surprise, Sanji finds himself smirking.

“I do, however, seek entertainment.”

“Whoa!” Luffy’s eyes sparkle again like a table of meat has just descended upon him. Words like entertainment always entailed adventure in Luffy’s mind, so this is exactly how it’s like this time.

“What kind of entertainment do you seek?” Nami demands, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“All sorts.” He tells her. “I think my ship’s interior reflects that more than its exterior. I’ll be happy to show you.”

Without any warnings, Luffy stretches his arm to the other ship’s figurehead and launches himself to its deck.

“That idiot...” Zoro grits out, soon jumping on the edge of the railing and hopping to the direction Luffy disappeared to.

“Luffy!” Nami calls after him, “Agh,” she sighs, and now she faces the odd-looking man, “fine, since our captain is so hyped.”

Before they got onto the other ship, Nami instructed them to be extra careful.

 

True to his word, the interior of Tsui’s ship was a sight to behold. All the attractions… It was also strange because it felt like they were stepping right into an amusement park. String lights crossed on the ceiling, illuminating the entire place. There’s a massive ride consisting of a rotating circular platform with seats in the form of rows of wooden  _horses_. Consumption stalls displaying a variety of foods and drinks. There’s a huge elevated railroad track designed with tight turns, steep slopes, and even inversions. At very far side, there’s some sort of an amphitheatre, with rows of seats surrounding it.

The most amazing part about the whole place is the fact that there are people down there, women, kids and elderly, having fun and laughing away.

“This is so amazing!” Luffy, Chopper and Usopp continue to gush on in unison, they almost fall off the railing they’re leaning on.

“How did you guys build this entire thing on this ship?” Franky exclaims.

“Kinetic energy” Someone replies from behind.

Franky whipped around, finding a middle-aged man, dressed in a brown velvet suit. “And you are…?”

The man stretches his hand for a hand-shake, “Adam, guy who designed this place.”

Franky takes his hand in a firm shake, “that is really admirable, sir.”

“Please, call me Adam.” The man insists, “Want me to give you a tour?”

“I’d love to!” Franky’s voice almost croaks, “tell me more about the motion energy as well.”

The two start to walk away.

Luffy leaps down towards the roller coaster, a hand holding on to a pillar and the other on his hat. Brook and Chopper and Usopp also follow suit, each using his ability.

“Alright, let’s move on.” Tsui parts his lips and his smiley eyes deepen. “I’m very fond of my ship so I always brag to newcomers. Forgive me if I get ahead of myself.”

The rest actually ignore him.

Robin stops in her tracks when they reach a room with a painted Haunted House on its font.

“What is this?”

Tsui also comes to a stop and turns around, as does everyone else of the company.  “These are called haunted houses; they’re a form of entertainment to scare people. Adam used all sorts of effects for a better performance. We also have actors dressed up inside, hiding and ready to jump out and scare anyone who goes in.”

Robin’s both cheeks blush.

Nami blows out a sigh and deflates in on herself, “fine,” she huffs, “I guess I’m coming with.”

Zoro, Sanji and Tsui watch with cocked brow how Nami clasps her hand around Robin’s wrist and leads her inside the Haunted House.

“Oh, Nami-san is so brave.” Sanji swoons, blowing kisses to the font of the house, “Robin-chan is also fearless.”

“I give it three minutes.” Zoro says over his shoulder, now following Tsui.

Sanji’s dreamy face morphs into a scowl, “isn’t it getting old, that old feminist thing?”

“So is your stupid little infatuation with women.” Zoro counters.

“Women’s existence is the only thing that colors this miserable world!” Sanji preaches behind him, “it is the sole thing that gives life meaning.”

“Yea, yea.” Zoro scratches his chest, “whatever.”

Tsui chuckles warmly.

Zoro ignores the blonde man raging behind and approaches Tsui, “by the way, old man,” he starts, “what’s that stadium for?”

“We call it the Gladiators’ Arena.” Tsui replies, “every two years, we organize this event where strong warriors fight on the arena. The prize isn’t that big, but at least they do win something.”

Zoro clutches at one of his swords, “what kind of warriors?”

“All kinds, really” The man shrugs, “as long as the contestants respect the rules and everything, everyone can participate.”

“When is it going to start?”

“Why, you want to participate?”

“You said all kinds of warriors can, what, I can’t?” Zoro frowns.

“Of course you can,” Tsui nods, “but you’d better register before they start, otherwise your participation –”

Zoro is already gone.

Tsui chuckles again, that amiable chuckle. “Young men…”

“What’s your deal, old man?” Sanji suddenly speaks, making the man jolt.

“You gave me a fright.” He laughs.

“I’m not a ghost.” Sanji bites out.

“No, you aren’t.” Tsui smiles and starts walking along the stalls with Sanji behind him, “When I look around, I can finally see happy faces. People are having fun because of something I made, well, technically it was Adam, but the feeling is still there.”

Sanji inspects his surrounding to attest the theory, and his jaw falls slack.

“There’s just so much hatred outside, so many wars and sadness. This world is no longer a place to live in.” Tsui rants on, “At least in here, even if it’s ephemeral, people think it’s alright to just let go.”

Sanji purses his lips, impressed.

Tsui suddenly grinds to a halt and reels his head, “so should you.”

Sanji lifts his brow.

“Come, now” he makes a motion with his head, “the Gladiators’ Arena is about to announce the first participants.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The seats in each row of the arena have buckles.

“What’s this for?” Sanji can’t help but ask.

“It’s for when there’s a storm.” Tsui simply answers.

The spotlights get shed on the stadium, and then a man in a white dress holding a mic waves at the audience, “good evening, everyone!”

The audience sheers back on.

“Today, I am proud to announce to you that we have some very strong contestants.” He says, “But before we announce their names, let me introduce you to the star guests of this night.”

The spotlights beam on a corner of the seats, and Sanji stands up, rage filling his eyes.

“What the hell’s the meaning of this?”

“Entertainment,” Tsui smirks, “now sit down, you don’t want us to shoot them in the head, do you?”

Across his side of the seats, Sanji sees his friends: Chopper, Robin, Nami, Brook and Usopp obviously unconscious and chained to their seats. Then the reddest of the spotlight falls on the stadium that the commentator has vacated, and slowly, it starts to shake. Sanji grits his teeth and sits down, gripping on the armrests of his chair.

The stadium parts in a half and slides open, revealing a wall separating two sides. On one side, there are warriors, vicious-looking and big and bulky.  On the other, there’s a big tank with Luffy chained inside of it.

Sanji’s eye bugs out, “you bastard!”

Men armed with guns appear one behind each of his friend’ seats, aiming the barrels to their heads.

Sanji balls his hands and falls silent. He changes tactics, attempting to use reason. “I thought you built this place to create joy, not murder people.”

“Pirates,” Tsui corrects, “not people. I don’t murder people, I murder pirates.”

“There’s a fucking difference?” Sanji marvels.

“I’m even shocked that you have to ask that,” Tsui finally looks him in the eyes, and there’s no trace of his amiable expression, “You, despicable pirates, lowest than animals, brought on the misery to this world.” He slams his hand against his armrest, “it’s because of your boyish insouciance that we no longer live. It’s because of scum like you that we were driven out of our homes.”

“You think doing this is going to change anything?”

Tsui levels Sanji with a fiery glare, “No, but it’s a start.”

Two heavy-muscled men come up to Sanji and drag him down to the arena, to the side with the other warriors.

“Alright, everyone!” The commentator’s voice comes off the speakers again, “on the A side, we have Sanji of the Straw Hat pirates!”

The place trembles after the audience sheers on.

“On the B side, we have Pirate Hunter” –Sanji’s breath hitches– “Roronoa Zoro!”

The audience almost loses their voice from all the sheering again.

Last time Sanji checked, Zoro wasn’t on that side. Luffy was. What is this Tsui guy even planning to do with them, having them separated like this, and his friends drugged? More importantly, where’s Franky?

 

“You got your head in the clouds, pretty boy?” a 6′ 4″ bald guy approaches Sanji, spiked bat in his hand.

The other Impel-Down-rejects tag closely behind him, their tongues lolling down their jaws.

 

Robin squirms in her seat, her lids finally fluttering open. When she gets her bearings intact, the gas incident inside the Haunted House comes back to her, and she perks up. She quickly slumps back on her seat.

“Sea prism stone, sugar.” The guard behind her says, “You ain’t going anywhere.”

The rest start to rouse from their slumber as well, groaning and moaning.

“What’s going on here?” Usopp demands, his eyes wandering around.

The guards take turns in explaining everything, same way Tsui did.

Ashen-faced, Robin looks down. “Cook is down there, captain and the swordsman, too!”

Chopper starts crying when he sees Sanji fighting those big ugly men all by himself. He wails when he sees Luffy unconscious inside the tank, and Zoro strapped to the wall across him. “This is so cruel!”

“Such a horrible thing to do…” Brook voices his sorry, “this is certainly troublesome.”

 

Sanji lands a kick to one of those warriors’ face, sending him flying and crashing against the seats. He lands another, this time taking down three men.

“Sanji,” Tsui’s adenoidal voice blares off the speakers, “I don’t have to remind you of the sea prism stone bullets in my men’s guns.”

Sanji was crouched so when the threat was worded, he punched the floor. “How is this fair play?”

“Strange,” Tsui hums, “you know what fair is?”

To make matters worse, chains come flying his way, landing on his feet and locking around his ankles.

“I’m a Utsusu-utsusu fruit eater,” Tsui announces, “I can move anything I want with a flick of my finger.”

Sanji grits his teeth. He tries to locate his friends and finds them at gun point quarreling with the guards… if only he knew where Franky is. Not that it matters right now, he has to think this through so no one is shot in the head. Zoro is on the other side of the stadium, maybe he can help. He was chained but the big screen on the ceiling showed Zoro’s chains coming off.

Another scar-faced man throws himself at Sanji, an axe in his hand. He starts swinging it, and when Sanji tries to lift his leg to counter the attack, he ends up slipping down. He totally forgot about the chain on his ankles.

Great, this keeps on getting better and better.

 

 

The straps or chains on Zoro have come off, and he notes it to murder whoever guy dared to take his swords away. He doesn’t remember much after enrolling in the contest, but he knows that if Luffy is chained inside a tank, it’s a crisis.

Water starts burbling out of two large holes on the floor of the tank, and Zoro’s anxiety hits the roof. He dashes to the tank and squats on top of it, he calls out Luffy a couple of times, he managed to break free from sea prism stone before, so maybe he can this time, but the guy is out of it. Zoro punches the glass a couple of times, but nothing happens.

In a dazed moment, he looks at the TV and watches how Sanji is on his hands, throwing kicks even though chained from the ankles. He returns his gaze to the tank and resumes the punching. After what feels like a whole day, Zoro finally manages to crack it.

 

Sanji crouches down and pants, face battered and head disheveled. He harrumphs and spits blood, then glares at the eyesore of an axe man.

“Nice look you giving me, princess.” His rival drawled, licking the sharp edge of his axe, “you turning me on more and more.”

“Screw you,” Sanji hisses.

“Nah, I’ll decline.” The other scoffs, “maybe if it’s the other way around?”

The audience’s laughter ricochets across the stadium.

“Hear that?” he asks, “they like it.”

 

The water in the tank reaches Luffy’s hips. Zoro’s assaults on the glass become more fervent and vigorous.

 

Sanji watches as a bundle of swords some of the contestants he beat dropped levitate to the air, their sharp ends facing the direction of his friends. He deciphers the meaning: make a move and your friends buy the farm.

The axe guy lifts his weapon, sheer ecstasy on his face when he brings it down with such a speed.

 

“Oh, Zoro is on the move again!” The commentator’s voice surprises Sanji.

So Zoro will end up saving Sanji today, that’s not a bad thought when Sanji considers the fact that he might end up amputated if Zoro stands still.

“Is he going to save his nakama Sanji?” the commentator sounds genuinely curious.

Something inside Sanji’s chest flaps like bird wings on a spring morning. He knew Zoro cared more about the captain, which is why the commentator’s words came as a shock. But what Sanji forgot is that Zoro isn’t inhumane, on battle, of course he’d risk his life to save his friends, including the least favorite ones. Sanji will owe him, but who gives a shit. He’ll return the favor, and they’ll call it even.

“Oh,” The commentator’s voice drops a notch.

Sanji’s hopeful eyes shoot to the TV screen, watching as Zoro jumps down from the tank but not moving away from it. He stands by its side, and then punches it again.

So… what was Sanji getting all cheerful for?

It’s not like he didn’t know who meant more to Zoro, it’s not like he didn’t know how much the captain means to Zoro. Sanji feels like an idiot getting his hopes up.

He heard people talking about the flash of light that passes by as you die…

Sanji closes his eyes, images from his past flash by: his gentle mother gentle smiling to him tenderly. The only gentleness he received before he met Zeff, the grumpy, old man sacrificed a limb for him, and spent his all to raise Sanji well.

Their sun: Straw Hat captain.

All the beautiful ladies he had a chance to meet despite the fact his heart belonged somewhere else… somewhere where it shouldn’t. Getting hooked on Zoro was the biggest mistake of his life. He shouldn’t have, God… he shouldn’t have.

 

Squish…

After the wet squish, all Sanji registers is the stabbing pain resulted from the tip of the axe sinking into his shoulder. When the axe man yanks his weapon out, blood spurts out profusely from the gash.

“Sanji!”

“Sanji-kun!”

Sanji sits motionless, mouth slightly hung open. He hears the sound of his wheezing breaths only, growing intermittent. Through glassy eyes, he tries to locate his friends, a last glance, a voice in him mocks. His eye-pupils shy from all the lights and roll under his lids. Then every disembodied sound thins out, and Sanji sinks.

Sanji slumps to the ground shoulder first, his blood creating a glittering crimson pond.

The audience stands ovation, wowed and, as Tsui hoped, entertained.

 

Zoro finally breaks the tank, and all the water gushes out. Luffy slides out with the momentum, squirming like a fish. Zoro unchains him at last, and Luffy sits up, a furrow on his forehead.

Zoro stands atop him, fisted hands by his sides.

“Zoro,” Luffy called firmly, his wet bangs hiding his eyes. “Get everyone out.”

As the swordsman ventures on to follow the order, Luffy punches down the wall separating him from Sanji. It crumbles down, bricks breaking to pieces. The men guarding Usopp and the rest draw back the hammers of their guns, but before they got to pull the trigger, Zoro is there in a flash, punching them down in a couple of strikes.

The ship suddenly starts to shake, and a red light over the entrance flickers. The people inside panic and they stampede around like sheep sensing impending danger.

“What is happening?” Nami hollers, now standing up after Zoro freed her.

“I don’t know,” he answers, “and I don’t care.”

“Take me to Sanji!” Chopper cries, “I need to examine him, Zoro! Please hurry!”

Nami’s demeanor shifts to worry, “You,” she snarls behind him as he shoots a bullet to the chains entrapping Chopper, “why didn’t you do anything?”

Zoro flinches.

He actually flinches.

He eventually ignores her and shoots the rest of the chains to free his friends. “This isn’t the time for that,” he tells them, “let’s go back to Sunny and figure out the rest later.”

 

Luffy resorts to his Gomu Gomu no Muchi to strike everyone out of the arena with just a kick. And he manages to. Sending the contestants towards the seats where they fall on top of other people. Luffy then stands still, his eyes taking in the scene of Sanji lying in a pool of his own blood.

“Sanji…” He croaks out in a brittle voice.

He takes a step closer, but Tsui lands before him.

“Two captains finally facing –”

Luffy, without any warning, uses Haki to harden his arm and gives Tsui a powerful punch to his face, breaking the man’s nose and teeth. He doesn’t balk at the sight of Tsui’s eyes crossing as he passes out on the floor, no, Luffy balks at the sight of Sanji looking like he’s sleeping peacefully, to never wake up.

 

The ship continues to shake, and then the ceiling starts crumbling. Luffy stretches an arm to scoop Sanji up, and the other he stretches it to the railing by the entrance, launching himself and Sanji towards it. Franky emerges from the ceiling with Zoro’s swords, a few scratches on his face. He jumps to the entrance where people are bustling about and meets the rest there.

“Where have you been?” Robin demands.

He gives the swordsman his weapons. “I got drugged and locked blow deck, but I destroyed the place as little payback.” He reports, his hand doing a quick movement to gesture at the shaking shape. “Adam dude is _super_ creepy.”

Luffy then lands before them, a pale Sanji in his arms.

They fall silent.

Chopps skids closer, “get him in the sick bay, quickly!” he instructs, “he’s lost too much blood already.”

Luffy nods and scurries outside the door, his sandals click-clocking on the plank. The crew rushes after him, jumping to Sunny, to home.

With Coup de Burst, they rocket the ship into the air and make a quick escape from the scene. They’d have lingered more, just to teach those heartless bastards a lesson, but Sanji required their attention more.

 

When they finally set anchor, Chopper locked the sick bay’s door and operated on Sanji. The Straw Hats remained outside, waiting with their teeth on their knuckles. Luffy sat cross-legged on Sunny’s figurehead, Zoro stood by on the deck, arms crossed over his chest.

“He’s been in there for hours!” Usopp groans, “Why is it taking so long?”

“Maybe Sanji’s injury is more severe than we thought.” Robin elaborates, “Let’s not rush our doctor.”

“I just hope he isn’t in so much pain,” Brook says out of the blue, “The way he fell…” he trails off, and lets someone else fills in the blank.

Nobody dares to.

Nami walks up to Zoro, her entire body tense with fury. “If something happens to him it’s on you.”

Zoro glares at her.

“You hear me?” She demands in her tremulous voice, “It’s all on you!”

“Nami!” Luffy bellows.

It silences her, but only for a beat. “You have each other’s backs.” She sobs, tears falling down her cheeks thicker than sea water. “What about Sanji? He believed you had his back! That’s why…” he didn’t go against Tsui’s threats to hurt the crew, “he trusted you to have his back!”

Zoro’s eye slowly widens.

“You don’t deserve him.” She points her index at him.

As they glare each other, Chopper bursts out of the room, panting.

“Guys!” He calls, “I need help!”

Zoro and Luffy go in and the door closes behind them, finding Sanji on the bed seizing, with blood still surging out of the gash on his shoulder. They freeze to the spot, eyes going impossibly wider.

“Get to it!” Chopper roars.

Luffy finally gets his legs moving, so does Zoro. Chopper hops on his chair which is now parked by the bed, and he attempts to get a needle into the nook of Sanji’s arm. Zoro tries to hold Sanji from the shoulders and Luffy from the legs, and Sanji jolts and spasms, making scary choking noises.

“The tip of the axe was coated in poison,” Chopper explains, “Fortunately it’s not as fast-acting as I thought it’d be. But Sanji’s condition is still critical.”

As though to further attest that, Sanji convulses. His hair whips around as he arches off the bed and falls back on it. The choking noises become more throaty and wet, like there’s a clot of blood clogging his airway.

“ _You think_?” Zoro berates, holding Sanji down by the forearms now because one of Sanji’s shoulders is busted.

“Is he going to die?” Luffy asks with his voice low.

“Stupid!” Zoro chides again, “He’s not gonna.”

“Zoro!” Chopper sobs tearlessly, keeping his eyes on where the needle is going. When Zoro finally quiets down, Chopper speaks again, “Sanji is strong, but he’s still just a human. With these convulsions becoming more violent, his body will eventually drop from sheer exhaustion.”

Zoro’s brows tremble, “isn’t there something you can do?”

Chopper lowers his head even more.

“You’re the doctor, for fuck’s sake!” Zoro hollers “save him!”

Sanji parts his lips and lets out another garbled noise, his middle arches with his head and feet on the bed.

Zoro looks away from the reindeer. He’s seen Sanji in pain before; he’s seen Sanji groan in pain and even nurse his limbs to his chest. Problem is… he’s never seen Sanji actually wither in agony. It’s mortifying, but at the same time scary and terrifying and unsettling. Sanji shouldn’t be – _God_ – seizing. He shouldn’t be soaked in so much blood, and his hair, those beautiful golden locks now covered in blood. Zoro grits his teeth “Come on, damn cook!” he coaxed, his voice becoming desperate, “don’t do this to me.”

Upon hearing the raw desperation in the swordsman’s voice, Luffy and Chopper wince in consolation, and actually marvel at the fact that a guy like Zoro, who’d beat up a woman if he had to, shows vulnerability in front of them.

Sanji whimpers this time, a telltale sign of the pain he must be feeling.

“You can fight it,” Luffy suddenly coaches with a cheerful tone, “Sanji, I know you can fight it!”

Chopper’s small mouth part into a smile, he nods. “He doesn’t have to,” he says, “I’ve already injected him with the antidote. We just need to wait it out now.”

Zoro narrows his eye at the damn hoofed nakama, “you had the antidote this whole time?”

Chopper nods, “I have antidotes of all kinds of poisons.”

“Say that first, you stupid talking rabbit!”

“I’m not a rabbit, I’m a reindeer!”

Luffy grins, “Guys, Sanji is finally relaxing.”

The two look down at Sanji, watching with relief how the taut muscles relax and the scrunched-up face loosens up. He lets out a small moan as his head lolls to the side.

Zoro catches himself gawking at the blonde man. He clears his throat and finally pulls his hands away from the feverish body. “He looks like he’s sleeping.”

Luffy sits at the far corner, cross-legged.

Chopper hums, “that’s because he is,” he tells him, “He’s lost a lot of blood so he is going to be doing a lot of sleeping in the next few days.”

“Days…?”

“Yes, Zoro. Days.” Chopper asserts it, and then the cheerful expression turns grim. “If that guy went even just an inch deeper, Sanji would have lost the ability to use his arm forever.”

And saying that about the ship’s cook, they know what the reindeer is talking about.

“To be honest, I’m not even sure his arm will be back to normal after a stab like that.”

“What’ you mean?” Luffy perks up.

“I need to sew up his shoulder first,” Chopper said, “we’ll talk outside when I’m done.”

 

**TBC**

 


	2. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanji wakes up but he isn't feeling human yet. He and Zoro have a nasty heart-to-heart.

 

 

The lingering light of dusk was rolled over by the rapidly falling night. Zoro is perching on a padded chair with his arms crossed over his marble chest and a scowl marring his forehead. It’s only been a few hours since their return but everyone has already wormed to their bed post everything that has happened today. He knows Nami wasn’t so keen on leaving him to watch over Sanji, but she eventually succumbed to the fact after the yawns kept coaxing her to bed. Luffy wasn’t ready to leave Sanji’s bedside but a reassurance from him to his captain sent him to the men’s quarters. Now, it’s just him and Chopper in the sick bay keeping vigil over Sanji. Actually, even Chopper has passed out on his desk after the hackle-raising, eventful day. And he doesn’t mean it in a good way.

Zoro listens at the smoothly even ripples rubbing the panels of Thousand Sunny, interrupted by Chopper’s sleep talk from time to time. He returns his eyes back on Sanji’s pale face. It is battered with cuts and bruises that reach all the way to his chest. Perspiration has rendered his wet hair flat and skin aglow. There’s thick gauze on his wounded shoulder wrapped in bandages, soaked in blood.

He grumbles.

One inch deeper and Sanji would have lost mobility in his arm, or so Chopper said.

 

**Earlier today,**

Sanji was left to his own devices after Chopper was done operating on him. He vacated the sick bay to update his friends on Sanji’s condition. He looked crestfallen and worn out as he plopped on the tree bench beside Robin, chin meeting his chest. He wasn’t willing to talk but that changed when everyone egged him on.

“Sanji is in trouble, guys.” He started on a full-bodied chest, as though trying to sound all professional and accommodating but his tears failed him. He didn’t dare look them in the eyes as he elaborated on that one, “Like I said, the edge of the axe was coated in poison, and although I gave him the antidote, it still managed to affect some shoulder muscles.” He explained. “While I’m hopeful the seizures will abate, I’m not sure about faultless mobility in his arm. I’m talking months of rehabilitation here, do you understand?”

“So you’re saying he might bounce back to normal after rehab?” Nami urged, bloodshot eyes imploring silently.

Chopper’s shoulders slumped and he dropped his chin, “I don’t know.” He said, and added, hoping the follow-up would mask the hideous possibility that Sanji might not be able to move his arm again. “What I do know though is that an injury like that takes time to completely mend.”

“He’s going to be fine.” Luffy’s eyes gleamed with renewed determination, like he’d just received some divine prophecy. “He’s Sanji, our cook. He has to be fine.”

In any other day, the hope-founded assurance of their captain would have set their minds at ease, but for some reason, the crew sank into a worrisome silence.

 

 **Now** ,

Zoro’s emerald eyes, turned dark by the dim illumination, flick to Sanji’s changing expression. His face goes from slack and peaceful to frowning. He starts to groan in small cries and Zoro shoots from his seat, he’s by at his side in a blink of an eye. Sanji squirms in a way that reclines his body on his side and his chest starts to pant, Zoro hooks his arms around him to hoists him a little up so he can empty his stomach in the bucket they placed earlier by the bed foot. It’s something Chopper has already warned him about. The seizures will continue to make Sanji’s stomach upset and he will continue to vomit after waking from one.

“Deep breaths, cook.” He coaches, rubbing said cook’s back in circular motions. “Don’t force it.”

Sanji lets out continuous miserable whines and he clings to Zoro, trembling hand clutching the fabric of his coat.

“It’s alright,” he tells him, still in a whisper. “You’re going to be fine, just ride it out.”

Sanji’s eyes start to crack open into slits, red-rimmed and watery and tired, the most tired Zoro’s seen in his life. He doesn’t know what else he sees in the blue orbs that have him tightening his hold on Sanji, bringing his sweat-streaked forehead to his chest. He feels the tremors coursing through Sanji ebbing and the man finally goes completely slack in his arms. He places him back on his pillow very gently, and loiters there enough to rake his fingers through the golden locks.

 

Sanji’s been hovering between life and death for over two days now, but today is the time he’s sat vertical again and properly opened his eyes without doubling over either to pass out or expel the bile in his stomach. Chopper suggests starting small: meager quantities of food and water just enough to keep him in shape, not fatten him up.

During the entirety of the three days Sanji spent entwined in the cacophony of morphine and warm bed covers, Zoro and Nami continued to ignore each other with intention and they weren’t meek about hiding it. She blamed him and he thought she’s a crazy woman. He tended for Sanji just like everyone else, even maybe more so. He helped in the kitchen, did the washing up, cleaned around and did the laundry once, no matter how fucking degrading to his manhood that is. He fought when idiotic marines launched a ‘sudden attack’ and didn’t complain about the other stuff he had already been appointed to do. He…

He did all the things Sanji does on a daily basis and never complains it's getting too much.

It doesn’t matter. Sanji is getting better and he will take charge of all the girly housework for them and Zoro will be back to the crow’s nest training to become the greatest swordsman in the world.

 

Sanji is on the bed, leaning on the pillows tucked between him and the headboard. He looks ashen and a little frail, but he is awake and smiling. He answers Chopper as the reindeer probes his shoulder to examine the injury. He asks who made the hot chocolate he’s currently sipping and chuckles when Chopper tells him it was Usopp. He gives him six out of ten for effort.

“I’ll give you some painkillers after you finish your breakfast,” Chopper says, finally pulling away. “I suggest you do it quick before I let Luffy in. They’re pulling out their hair waiting anxiously outside for me to open that door.” He points at the said door with his hoof.

Sanji smiles warmly, or attempts to but it looks wan. “Let them in,” he said, “I want to see them.”

Chopper’s doleful eyes shimmer with abiding, genuine happiness. “I’m so happy you’re finally awake, it was getting too lonely without you.” He gushes, and then nods. “They want to see you, too.”

He unlocks the door and a horde of heads and limbs accompanied by whined grumblings charge into the bay despite Chopper’s high-pitched warnings, and Sanji’s smile widens.

“Hey, everyone.” He greets, now placing his mug on the nightstand with his healthy hand.

Luffy comes to a screeching halt and so does everyone who was marching behind him, making Sanji furrow his brow in confusion and slight fear. Luffy’s face sags as he takes in the pallid complexion, the bushed eyes and the arm in the sling. His eyes start to well up with tears.

“Sanji…” He mutters, and in a beat, he is tossing himself on the man. “I’m so glad you’re OK! Chopper wouldn’t let us in and he wouldn’t tell us anything.”

Sanji ruffles his captain’s hair, a fond gesture of his endless gratitude for… everything. Chopper has told him what happened back on Tsui’s ship and how Luffy punched the wall down to get to Sanji and sweep him right from the claws of bulky weapon-wielders who were adamant on squashing him to the floor of the arena like an ant. It was the worst and the most traumatizing experience he’s ever been through , and he doesn’t believe so because of the fight, which he could handle under different circumstances, it’s the fact it was so close, his end…

“That is not true, Luffy-san.” Brook coos and approaches the bed like everyone else. “Chopper didn’t allow visitors very often because he was worried we’d disturb your rest.”

Sanji looks away from the crown of his captain’s head and up at everyone: Robin is pinning him with implicit reassurance, Frank is by her side, giving him a thumps-up and gushing about how _super_ dead those bad guys are. Usopp tilts his nose upward and tells him he was the one who made the hot chocolate and looking as though he’s taking a lot of pride in that fact alone, which he finds funny. Nami has balled her fists by her sides and is now trembling with repressed emotions, just one spur-on, heck just one uttered word from Sanji and he’s sure she’d break down, crying her eyes out.

“You had us all so worried,” she starts, her long caramel-brown hair dangling on her shoulders and her fringes hiding her eyes. “Don’t do something like that again, understand?”

His furrow dissipates and his features relent with an affectionate smile, “No promises.” He chuckled when she went commando and scary on him, the way she always does which brightens him up.

A fleeting onceover tells him Zoro isn’t in there vicinity, hasn’t been since they came in. And much to his surprise, he realizes he is breathing out a sigh of relief. He really doesn’t want to deal with the guy right now, or later, or even later than that. He’s going to take his time recovering and he’s going to prevent his usually-tetchy brain from wandering to the shelves in his head allocated for the moronic swordsman.

“Why do you look so pale though?” Luffy can’t help but wonder.

“He’s lost a lot of blood, Luffy.” Chopper offers, now skidding to his desk. “We’re lucky we stocked on blood from Fishman Island, it could have gone bad.”

 

Before he woke up, the crew was shepherded into one room by the ship’s doctor and instructed not to say a word to Sanji about the aftereffect of the poison and the injury. He’d need all the emotional support he can get to pull through, and disheartening him will only serve to alter the process of healing.

There have been some arguments about it but Luffy’s decision to follow through with the plan put a stop to any disagreements they might have wanted to still voice out.

 

“He’s not out of the woods yet,” He adds, “so let’s all be careful.”

Luffy props on the bed with this expectant look on his face, “hey, Sanji, make us some meat!”

They want to berate him in unison but Nami does them the honor as she smacks him on the head. “What part of ‘be careful’ did you not understand?” She huffs, ignoring the way he whines at her. “In any case,” she says after collecting herself and schooling her temper. “We’ll continue taking care of things around until you feel human again.”

“I’m sorry for troubling you all.” He looks so apologetic he might as well start crying.

“Idiot,” They tell him, “your health is more important,” they say, “we’ll try to not set the kitchen in fire until you come back, so hurry up and get better.”

 

Lack of nicotine always drives him up the wall, but today he feels strangely stable. He is reading one of the three books Robin had replaced on the nightstand after picking up the mug, the noise of his friends running around and squeaking loudly keeps his thoughts from spiraling out of control. He turns the page but a knock on the door holds off his reading.

“Come in,” he croaks.

The door opens and Zoro ambles in with a tray in hand. Sanji’s narrowed eyes trip over the man’s burly neck, and down to his bare, tanned chest and the sword scar stretching from his left shoulder to his right hip. He quickly snaps out when a childish squeak cuts through the air again. He clears his throat and motions at the nightstand, now returning his eyes to the book.

Zoro places the tray over the table, and instead of taking his haughty glares with him and scram, he lingers there. He even pulls the same padded chair next to the bed and drops on it.

Sanji picks on that and slowly looks up, a brow arching up in question.

“You’re getting pretty ripe there,” he says, “you gotta scrub up.”

Sanji twitches in frustration, his free hand clenching on the book. “Is that all?”

Zoro looks over at the tray he placed on the table, “eat.”

“I will.” Sanji says cantankerously, “now leave.”

“After you eat”.

Sanji nibbles at the inside of his bottom lip. He knows the guy, there’s no way he’s here on his own accord. Someone, or in this case Nami, must have signed him up for keeping an eye on him in some miserable attempt for repentance. “I appreciate the gesture, but tell them I’m eating just fine.”

“You’re popping painkillers like sugar candy, and you’ve dropped a few kilos.”

“Right,” he replies, warily. “That’s my problem to handle. If you’re enjoying being Nami’s henchman, then you two choose someone else to play with.”

“You’re such an ungrateful bastard, you know that?”

Sanji snaps a furious glare at the tanned man, “Screw you, alright?” He huffs, now feeling a slight ping spreading out from his flaming shoulder. “I don’t need this Good Samaritan charity, asshole. I’m so over that Janus face o’ yours, OK? So if this is some fucked-up way to tell me you’re sorry for what happened, save it. I don’t need your sorry.”

Zoro fumes until his cheeks redden, “I didn’t volunteer to babysit you, shitty cook.”

He _knows_. God damn, he already knows. And that’s what makes him feel so... uncool.

Sanji winces slightly at the ache throbbing all over his arm now but keeps his defiant eyes glaring in a valiant effort to hold his anger in check. “You think a spineless monkey like you would outplay me with a miserable try like this one?”

Zoro springs up to his feet in a beat, chest puffing out. “I dare you to repeat that.”

“What,” Sanji scoffs humorlessly against himself, “Are you going to unsheathe your sword?” he goads, sea-blue eyes beholding the challenge in Zoro’s. He still ignores what’s started as a throb but is now a full-on raging pain, he also ignores the way his right shoulder –the injured limb- jerks inside the sling. “What ‘you going to do to me, Zoro, finish the job?” He bellows with his husky voice, “Are you going to chop off my entire arm, you bastard!” In his frenzy, he ends up tossing the book Robin gave him at the standing man, causing him to recoil. “What else do you want to take away from me?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Zoro seethes, “are you blaming me for your little fuck-up?”

Look, Zoro is a man of a few words. He doesn’t speak until his head says so, and he doesn’t care to explain his actions. It’s either white or black; there are no shadings of gray to cloud his judgments. That’s just the way he is. If he tells you he doesn’t like you, then that’s his true impression. You don’t poke around to try to find some other meaning in the ways of a man like Zoro.

The thing he’s just said, what he said about Sanji blaming him for his failure is simply what the man believes.

So maybe he’s right, maybe Sanji did mess up big time, but there were tough conditions alright, preventing him from winning.

Sanji’s splenetic rant comes to a stop, his mouth opens and his eyes go wide with disbelief. “You…” he hacks out a dry sob, both the spat words and the pain making him want to crawl out of his skin. He clutches at his sling and lets out a feeble, pained sound that brings Zoro to his senses. He dashes to him and hovers. Sanji’s eyes are still wide, the uncertainty within makes Zoro’s knees jerk but he holds his ground.

“Hey, cook.” He soothes with a small voice, “what’s going on?”

Sanji’s knuckles turn pallid as he squeezes the sling in an attempt to escape pain, he mewls and tears rush out of his eyes. “Get –” he crumples on the pillows and whimpers, nursing his arm to his chest and bending so his knees meet his chest, “God…” he sounds mild and weak, and he hates how he wants to incline into Zoro for some relief. Another zapping wave of pain hits him and he arches and parts his knees from his chest.

Zoro’s horror-stricken eyes wander over the body withering in pain before him, and he doesn’t miss on the way Sanji clasps his healthy hand on the sheets as he lets out another whimper.

Sanji wheezes and sends glazed eyes to Zoro’s direction, imploring him for some painless relief which they both know Zoro can’t afford. “Shit” he grits out, and turns his head around to holler, “Chopper! Get your fury ass in here!”

Sanji’s wheezing turns hollow and fast and soon he is panting as though Zoro’s dumbbell were placed on his ribs. “I… Zoro,” he wails, his hand still clutching the bed sheet, “can’t. I can’t.”

Zoro can’t for the life of him understand what Sanji wants from him but he skids closer to provide some sort of… comfort, he supposes. He palms Sanji’s pasty, cold cheek and dips his head; he is fucking useless. “Hang on, OK?” he contorts his brows as if seeing Sanji in pain puts him in pain as well. “Chopper is gonna be here soon, so just hang on for me.”

Sanji’s wheezes and whimpers last until the doctor rushes in with Luffy, Usopp and Robin in tow. He takes one assessment of the situation and grabs a needle from his bag. As soon as he injects Sanji’s injured arm, the man’s eye-pupils roll under his lids and his twitching body starts to go limb and sink into the covers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nami and Robin couldn’t do it, but neither could Franky, because, and according to him, he’d never been too close to Sanji, and he meant that literally. Upon his reasoning, Brook also declined the offer to wash Sanji, and so did Usopp since he didn’t wish to feel awkwardness with his crewmate afterwards. That left Chopper, Zoro and their captain. Actually, Nami had crossed Luffy out of the list with the excuse that Luffy would get distracted playing and forget about doing his part of the bargain. Chopper then upped and begged to be excused for he had a potion to make which had made him sound like a furry witch. That left only Zoro.

 

That’s why he’s under the showerhead with Sanji, a sponge foaming with bubbles in his hand as he washes cook’s back. His eyes travel to the small of Sanji’s neck since the man has dipped his head, making his hair fall at either side of his face as the water pours on them.

 

It’s been almost a week since the accident. Sanji’s face has been gaining color, and he is able to move his limbs without feeling lethargic. He eats more than soup or meager quantities of food, and yet he hasn’t been allowed into the kitchen yet. Chopper mentioned something about rehab first before giving Sanji a knife.

Zoro also hasn’t spoken a word to the man ever since their little quarrel. Nami had come up and ripped into him to leave the blond alone, and that he’d had suffered enough because of him, so, Zoro, in a moment of frantic frenzy, told her that he didn’t care and that he was in that room against his will, and that she’d done him a favor by demoting him to ship-guarding.

Truth is, he was scared.

Sanji was so convinced that Zoro would leisurely draw his sword and chop off his arm like a mad man. He was so certain about Zoro wanting to do him harm and that’s a sick thing to even think about because Zoro can’t bring himself to picture the entire scenario. He cares too much about the damn cook that, more often than not, he loses his head in the most un-coolest ways that disgrace mounts on him like a fucking doom. He cares too much that it is actually physically painful.

 

A small noise from the ailed brings him out of his monologue, and he looks –actually looks at Sanji, spotting a blush spreading out towards the man’s ears. He presses closer against his better judgment to better examine the state the cook is in, finding his cock slowly rising to attention. He must have touched Sanji’s sensitive spots without being aware of it. He knows where they are because he used to kiss them after the two drop tired from making love all night, and Sanji used to purr and moan under his gentle caresses and kisses. Zoro peers at the way Sanji braces his healthy hand against the tiled wall and lowers his head deeper, bearing his narrow nape, it makes Zoro go a little mad.

He slides his large, battle-hardened hands down the man’s fair skin, very slowly, sensually, like there’s a truth he must prove. The sponge drops from him at one point as he ducks to the inviting nape, ghosting his lips over it and grunting at the way Sanji shudders. He can’t believe he’s going to say this but, this, he truly missed. He presses against the skin with his mouth, kissing and sucking and enjoying the sweet moans the blond keeps letting out. His hands glide down towards the man’s groin, and then to the cock pleading for relief. He fists it, which punches a keen from Sanji’s throat. Zoro strokes it like it’s the most precious thing in the world, while keeping his mouth on the sensitive nape.

Sanji isn’t refusing him, and it’s a good thing, considering the last time the two of them talked it ended with Sanji going into a two-day coma.

Zoro rubs him off until he shoots his cum up the wall before dropping to his knees, parting Sanji’s ass cheeks with his thumbs. No complaints are expressed as he flaps his tongue on Cook’s entrance, and then beginning to rim it.

As though approving of his actions, Sanji parts his legs wider and remains silent.

Zoro’s tongue goes deeper, and Sanji’s moans get out of control. He feels his own cock so swollen under the fabric so he slithers a hand under the waistband and frees his erection, groaning at the relief that comes after. He lifts up again and lines the crown of his cock against Sanji’s ass hole, and then he slowly pushes his hips, making Sanji arch with a whimper that he can’t be bothered to be embarrassed by.

He’s so tight that penetration feels almost too painful, and the way the round flesh stretched around his shaft makes him delirious with want and lust. Sanji’s upper half slumps on the wall but remembers to buck his ass out, and that’s when Zoro loses all his sanity. Sanji is just so erotic, and he’s hungry. He’ll plunder him.

Except for the little whining noises, Sanji remains wordless, only taking all of Zoro with his body is sucking him in like crazy. Zoro, on the other hand, is too caught up in utter ecstasy that he doesn’t even register the absence of that dear thing…

 

Around dusk, Zoro goes out on a quest to find Cook and bring him to his chambers, or so Robin instructed. He finds him by the railing, looking out at the patch of shades of pink and purple where the sun has sunken, with a longing look in his eyes, and a cigarette between his lips. Zoro walks up to him, his hands in his pockets.

“You can’t smoke.”

Sanji doesn’t look away from the colors reflected on the sea surface like a waterfall, “It’s unlit.”

 

Zoro leans on the railing with his back, his arms propping on it and his body frame gets shaded with crimson. He glances over at Sanji, and, despite how cheesy it might sound, his breath is almost taken away. He knew he didn’t just wake up one day and started to love Cook; these feelings grew when the two of them started to notice one another, started to disagree with their way and eventually respect them. Those loving feelings grew when Zoro realized that Sanji wasn’t just all looks and talks, that he can be trusted with the safety of their friends, and that he’d put his life on the line to save everyone. Then, there were his looks; blond, rich locks that swivel smoothly at the slightest touch of a breeze, the sky-blue eyes that glint with bare pride, warm happiness, stifled sadness and burning lust. Zoro didn’t just wake up one day and felt these feelings clutching his heart in a choke-hold and giving his fucking life a meaning…

He is glad Sanji also feels the same way.

 

“I was told to take you to the bay,” he says, “You might catch a cold standing here, let’s go.”

Sanji removes the cigarette from his mouth and snaps it in a half, and then he spreads the specks on the calm ripples, watching them get swept away bit by bit. “Zoro,” he starts, but his voice is faint, and weak; like he’s spent the entire day raving on about something and now he’s just tired. “Let’s stop.”

The other lifts a dangerous brow. “Huh?”

Sanji finally skids his eyes to Zoro’s, seeing him for the first time since they quarreled in the sick bay. They’re red-rimmed, droopy but still glinting like ever. He reaches out with his good hand, placing it on the swordsman’s cheek. “It’s over,” he says, “so let’s stop.” Saying so, he nears Zoro’s face and presses their lips together, and it’s unlike any other time. The kiss is soft, languid and… sad.

He steps backward, eyes the sky one more time before turning to leave, but Zoro’s hand if on his wrist before he could even process what just happened.

“What the hell do you mean?”

“I think you know.” Sanji replies, voice stable and final. “Zoro, let go.”

Zoro has a feeling that there’s more to the order; by letting go he might be giving up the last hope he has to fix whatever that’s gotten broken. He might be giving up his happiness. He might even be abandoning this new meaning Sanji gives to his life. So, no. he won’t let go.

“Explain.”

Sanji tilts his head to the back, closed eyes facing the sky. He looks dead on his feet, he looks like a man without a purpose and it can’t be just Zoro’s imagination.

“I’m not happy.”

Of course he isn’t, he just woke up from a coma. Chopper also said that he’d be feeling pain in his entire arm until it is completely healed, make that over a month, give or take. So of course he isn’t happy.

Somehow Zoro comes out with this conclusion “I’ll ask Chopper to give you more painkillers.”

Sanji lowers his head and shakes it sadly, like it’s too late. “I don’t think there’s a medicine for that somewhere.” He says, like some fucking poet when he knows damn well that Zoro doesn’t do sappy. “Let go, Zoro. It’s over.”

Oh.

Oh!

Now he gets it. Zoro admits that he isn’t the shrewdest when it comes to smart talk, so it’s taken him this entire time to finally place the pieces together. But you know, sometimes, it’s best to be an idiot.

“I won’t do that.”

You can’t just call it quits; not like this. Zoro isn’t a pet, he’s a man. He’s going to be the strongest swordsman in the world, and he guesses that owns him some respect. Sanji can’t just reflect in his bed and then settle on such a resolve; ending it like this without talking it out first, what does he think he’s doing. Zoro isn’t just going to shrivel up like a pansy and thank Sanji for his decision. He’s in this too. He’s part of this, and his say doesn’t weigh less than Sanji’s.

“This isn’t a game, you bastard.” He says, his hands sweating around Sanji’s slender wrist. The guy never uses his hand for a fight, only to cook, which explains the slenderness. Zoro is scared a little more force and he’d snap the bone like a twig. “You don’t just decide that on your own. If you can’t convince me, you can forget about calling this quits.”

A heated glare snaps at Zoro, but it mollifies just as quickly. Sanji is usually all up for quarreling, it’s what they’ve always done. Somehow, it became too natural to let the other know that the fire is still crackling, that the want is still alive and nothing can smother them. So when he doesn’t quarrel, Zoro knows something is really wrong going on.

“Zoro,” That voice again… “I’m not happy, with you.”

Zoro gapes when Luffy punches a sea king out of the water because it had attitude, he gawks when Nami bargains with their lives for a few berries, and he even screams when a big, poisonous fart is chasing his ass but he always resorts to his angry words to express what he feels. Now, though, it seems all words have been sucked out of him, leaving him speechless.

He lets the input sink in home, get deciphered and then acknowledged.

His rough hand slowly gives up hope, happiness and meaning, and returns to his side.

“Sanji kun!” Nami calls out from the bay’s door, “it’s time for your medicine; Chopper says you need rest.”

Without a word, or a last glance, Sanji walks back to the sick bay, chats with Nami which Zoro believes is just her reprimanding him about his health, before the two walk inside, closing the door.

That’s it?

That’s all it?

So those passionate nights, those stolen moments in the back alleys and those secret kisses below deck… they were nothing?

How does one wake up one day and decide they aren’t happy with their partner, when said partner has done nothing but his best to be deserved as well. He understands that a guy like him with his dangerous life style can’t be resisted, but he isn’t a life partner material. Women always see him as a piece of meat, a dangerous experience to add passion to their stagnant sex life… But, Sanji, he wasn’t with him for that. Zoro couldn’t even understand how two go from yelling at each other’s faces to kissing passionately in the next second because ‘fuck, it was too close. I can’t lose you’. He also doesn’t understand how one grows out of all that.

Sanji isn’t happy? Then what else is Zoro supposed to do, or to give, to add some happiness to Sanji’s life when the man’s never complained about a thing.

This isn’t recent. This has been piling up and getting ugly by the day as Sanji nurtured it without wanting anyone else to shoulder the burden with him. This is where it gets worse, Zoro isn’t anyone. It’s true that his caring ways are brash and almost half-hearted, but underneath the lathing words and the scoffs, he knows that Sanji knows that he cares too fucking much to word it, because no words can describe it.

So, no!

He isn’t going to let go, and it isn’t over yet.

Sanji can act dramatic all he wants, but when it’s all said and done, there’s no one the other can resort to but each other, and Zoro is going to sit back and watch it happen; how Sanji will crawl back to him…

 

 

 

 


	3. Small Miracles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Other than the reminder of what happened, something else is making Sanji depressed. It all changes when he doesn't only words it, he screams it. Zoro hears him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, finally *falls to her knees and bawls* THE LAST PART!! It's been fun though.  
> Hope you enjoy.  
> Don't forget to hit kudos and let me know what you guys think!

 

 

The gauze is removed, showing a long stitches scar on his right shoulder; the tale of his survival. His body is battered and covered with scars from taking on strong opponents throughout the years, but the one on his shoulder stands out the most. Also, it is a reminder to himself to become stronger, depend on himself and never expect charitable sacrifices from anybody.

 

“Alright,” Chopper beams, his high-pitched voice gushing. “The wound’s completely healed. You are in a good health again.”

Nami, leaning against the door, sighs as though she missed a very interesting proposition. “I guess that’s to be expected; these guys have monster powers.”

Without swooning, Sanji expresses how his heart is flying in his chest at having been complimented by one of the beauties of the sea. Nami only glares at his womanizing nonsense.

“Do you think you can handle rehab now?” Surprisingly, it’s Usopp, who’s already seated himself on an empty chair by Chopper’s desk.

Sanji shrugs his healthy shoulder, “Yea. I can already move my arm without feeling any pain. It should be fine.”

“Great,” Chopper chirps, “I’m going to give you the schedule we’re following, plus the check-ups; but you are healing remarkably fast so I don’t suppose it will take long.”

“That’s a good thing,” Robin who is perched beside him on the bed smiles, her shimmering eyes glinting. “I know you can’t wait to go back to cooking.”

Blushingly, he scratches the back of his head. “True.” He says, and the look in his eyes becomes more…genuine and deep. “The kitchen is my sanctuary, and cooking is what I love to do. More than that, I just want to make you guys happy with my food.”

They share a knowing smile together.

 

Zoro hasn’t talked to Sanji ever since he broke up with him –or that’s what Sanji thinks because, if Zoro remembers correctly, he didn’t agree to his crazy talk. He’s been keeping to himself just like any other day, at the crow’s nest, training, keeping his mind off Sanji’s feverish nape that time in the shower.

He heard Luffy talk about how Chopper was finally going to remove the gauze from Sanji’s shoulder, and while that had made the captain overzealous that he was finally going to eat his cook’s food, it made Zoro…unsettled. He knows Sanji blames him for what happened on Tsui’s ship, and he knows that Sanji harbors a grudge and even believes that Zoro could hurt him if the situation called for it; he doesn’t know how he’d act if Sanji appeared with the scar which Zoro knows is there, doesn’t know how to ignore something that, to Sanji, is a reminder of Zoro’s mistake.

He is happy, though, that Sanji is recovering fast. They have their posts to tend to, and feeding over six people is a cook’s job; the navigator and the sniper, even their astrologist, their cooking wasn’t even close to anything appetizing.

 

Sanji insists on starting rehab in the same day, the sooner he can move his arm the sooner he’ll be back to his sanctuary. With him being all insistent, Chopper acquiesces eventually.

 

Three days later, Sanji, dressed in a plain gray shirt, dark pants and sandals, walks into the galley under his friends’ watchful eyes. The scent of old spice and garlic fills his nose, and he closes his eyes against the overwhelming, nostalgic feeling. As his friends seat themselves at the table, chatting together and being rowdy, Sanji walks up to the counter, his slender fingers landing on the panel, and he shudders. It’s been almost two weeks since he’s been here last. Every day felt like it’s dragging on slower than the other, and he felt like a piece of him was dying a slow death. But, now, everything is looking up; his shoulder has healed, he finished rehab and now he’s back in the kitchen, where his soul finds peace.

“Come on, Sanji!” Luffy whines, “I’m hungry, I want to eat!”

Nami is soon slapping his smooth dark hair, “have some self-restraint, you idiot!” she tells him and ignores his mumbled grumbles, “It’s alright, Sanji-kun. Take your time.”

They seldom sit there waiting for the food to be cooked; Sanji knows they’re here because they wish to support him, give him some mental strength, tell him they’re here for him and it makes him smile. With a nod, he turns to face the stove and the ingredients that have been already replaced there, and he starts rolling up the sleeves up to his elbows.

 

Zoro startles up from his nap, vivid images of his dream fading too quickly from him. He scratches his chest like a monkey and climbs down the ladder, making his way to the galley because he also heard from Brook that cook was returning to his post today. He doesn’t like that he nodded off and wasn’t here to see it, but he only hopes he isn’t late. Lately, he’s been having these awfully vivid dreams that make him restless and sleep-deprived, and the nap just now couldn’t have been more than half an hour. He hopes he isn’t late.

Upon approaching the galley, Zoro picks up the chatter of his boisterous friends gushing about the good-quality food they haven’t tasted in weeks. Zoro agrees. Even without eating it yet, he knows cook’s food tastes the absolutely best.

 

Zoro walks in through the open door, his intervening presence bring the chatters into a stop. From his perch, he scans everyone and he spots cook standing by the table, more food on his hands. That tells Zoro that cook can move his hands, especially with everything he’s cooked.

“Oi, Zoro!” Luffy calls through a mouthful of meat, “where have you been?”

Grumbling to his captain to mind his own business, Zoro lifts his hand to his nape and scratches, absentmindedly looking to find cook’s eyes again. He relaxes when he finds them, looking back at him.

 

Alright, here’s the thing; a few days ago, insistent that what’s between them wasn’t over, Zoro went up to Sanji when the wench wasn’t hovering. Sanji was on the deck, savoring the taste of his cigarette with such a pained expression, as though the lack of nicotine was worse than being denied access to the kitchen; Zoro neared him with a hand on the handle of his swords, his expression taut.

“What’ you want, shitty swordsman?” Sanji said after Zoro remained silent next to him.

“You didn’t discuss it with me.”

“Discuss what?” Sanji scoffed, now taking another long suck of his cigarette and blowing smoke in the air. “There’s nothing to discuss, Zoro. I took that decision and I’m satisfied with it. It’s not my problem if it hurts your pride.”

“This isn’t the end of it, you hear me?” He rumbled.

Sanji slowly reeled to face him, drooped blue eyes looking bored. “Is that supposed to be a threat; sorry to break it to you but it isn’t doing as effective job as you think, bastard.”

Zoro inched a little closer; a little was enough for Zoro to catch the whiff of a spicy smell, like a strong cologne, the same Sanji always had on his body. He wanted to lean into it, to the hollow of Sanji’s neck and just stay there…. “Cook,” he called, and he saw it, in a flashing second, he saw Sanji’s brows tremble and his eyes glimmer. Thinking it was what cook needed to hear, he repeated it, more genuinely this time, like he’s putting his heart and soul in it, “Cook –”

“Enough,” Sanji cut him off, “It’s over. I don’t know what you want with me but I’m not going back to that.” Saying so, he returned the cigarette to his mouth and walked past Zoro, “I moved on from you, so should you.”

As Zoro remained there, blank faced and empty minded, Sanji walked away and that, for the first time, had felt like Sanji was really walking to somewhere far away.

 

“Sit, before you get robbed.” Sanji tells him on a smirk, and for a moment it feels like he and Zoro are back to the way it was and that after everyone is fed and out of the galley, they’d spend the evening together, basking in love. But Zoro knows better.

He plops next to Nami, who, as always, finds another reason to make his life miserable.

“We agreed to be here for him,” she hisses to him in a whisper, “why weren’t you here?”

“I fell asleep.” It’s the truth.

Looking horror-stricken, Nami leans forward, dangerously, “You’re a selfish prick, you know that?”

“And you should mind your own damn business.” He bellows but he sounds unfazed.

Robin then has the good grace to meddle as well, but her intentions are different. “Let’s not do this here, alright? We don’t want to ruin this special day for him, do we?”

“Come on, guys” Frank nods in agreement, “I haven’t seen him this happy in weeks. Don’t spoil his fun.”

“And he can’t deal with stress right now.” Chopper tacks on.

Nami and Zoro comply but still glare at each other. Sanji nears the table with Zoro’s share, placing it gracefully without the food toppling over.

“I haven’t eaten something this good in weeks,” Brook comments, “a cook onboard really makes a difference. I’m also happy you bounced back earlier than Chopper estimated.”

Sanji gives him a smile with his lips pursed and pressed together, “happy to be of service.”

“Idiot,” Usopp grits out, “he means we’re happy you’re finally able to do what you love, and” –he grins, pointing at Nami and Robin with his thumb– “you saved us from getting food-poisoned.”

“What was that?” Nami looms up on him, smacking his hat off.

The rest laugh jointly, assured and comfortable giggle filling the room.

 

Except for him and Zoro, everything is back to normal. Everyone is back to their post and Zoro keeps in the crow’s nest most of the time now, which is good. He doesn’t know if the next time Zoro faces him again he’d keep himself from punching him across his face.

Sanji made that decision, and although it hurt to even think about, he still went on with it because he wanted for himself to be happy as well. If he didn’t, he’d still be dragged in Zoro’s pace; and that’s not what happy means. The events back at Tsui’s ship not only proved him a few doubts he’d already been having, but it also showed him that his happiness isn’t with Zoro no matter how he’s smitten by the man.

They are still shipmates, and friends. Sanji will always put his life on the line for him, but it ends at that line. It’s true they spent the past years as an item, but breaking up and living as just shipmates is not something impossible to do. They’ll get used to it.

 

Around dusk, Zoro heads to the bathroom with his towel and change of clothes; he’s been at the crow’s nest training like a machine and hoping the exertion will get his mind off a few things that keep him restless and sleepless at night. All it managed is get his shirt soaked in sweat.

Upon walking in, steam comes rushing out to him and so he assumes someone is already using it; must be Usopp, guy’s been chasing Luffy around and his noise kept disturbing Zoro now and then. He hangs his towel on the rack where there’s already a towel hooked, places his clothes on a chair. Just as his shirt goes past his head, his eye locates blond hair among the mist, and without meaning to or allowing it, his heart leaps under his ribs.

He stands still until the steam starts clearing up, and Sanji walks up to him, naked and elegant. The rational side of him is telling him to ‘move on’; there’s nothing between them anymore. His other side is telling him to heck with what Sanji decides, he wants the man so he’s going to take him but all he does is end up standing rooted to the spot like a moron.

Sanji finally reaches him, “Yo,” he says, drowsily.

Zoro wets his lips and parts them to talk, but nothing comes out…

Sanji looks away from him and stretches his right hand towards the rack, making the muscles in his shoulder protrude, showing his scar.

Something in Zoro just… breaks.

As Sanji wraps the towel around his waist, Zoro can feel he’s lost command over his limbs as his hand goes up to the scar. He startles Sanji at first as the blond stands still, his sea-blue eyes on the hand going to his shoulder. Zoro only thumbs the scar, and it doesn’t escape him the way Sanji’s body shudders, making his nipples perk up.

What does he mean it’s over, can’t he take a look at his flushed face! Why does Sanji keep denying what they have, it isn’t logical.

Zoro ducks, Sanji’s name rolling off his lips, desperate and needy, and he almost buries his face in Sanji’s neck but the man steps sideways, grunting something about, ‘didn’t use up all the hot water’, before collecting his clothes in a bundle and leaving.

Zoro spends half of his time in the shower pleasing his cock over thoughts of Sanji, defiant but still compliant, blushing yet scornful, beneath him, moaning Zoro’s name with his scratchy voice…

 

 

Cockroaches, the marines are like god damn cockroaches showing up from nowhere in the middle of the god damn sea.

So, just as any morning on Sunny, cook starts his dawn with breakfast preparations –he’s been thinking of baking pies for everyone– and as the sun becomes more visible, the crew starts to rise to the world of the living, leaving their warm beds and following the appetizing scent of food.

“Good morning, Sanji kun.”

“The scent of cake is soaring all over the ship.”

Nami and Robin comment after their entry, and they soon come to regret it because Sanji is all over them again, something he hasn’t done in weeks. But they guess even some flamboyant behaviors can be missed.

“Nami san, Robin swan,” he twirls to their direction, two pies in each hand. “I’ve been up preparing these with the picture of your smiles in my head. My ladies, please, take your seats.”

But it doesn’t happen because the resonance of a bomb hitting water alters it; the three behold each other pensively before embarking outside, standing at the railing and taking in the massive marine ship at the side, with its canons facing Sunny.

“That stupid marimo.” Sanji tsks, “warn the guys,” he tells them, knowing only one will carry out the order while the other will stay to help; that’s just how great his friends are. He leaps to the deck, and vaguely registers Zoro grumbling from above and then jumping and landing next to him. He takes out a cigarette and lights it, burning embers at its end.

“What the hell were you doing, dimwit” –Sanji exhales an abundant burst of smoke– “you were on watch. This is the kind of thing you’re supposed to look out for.”

Zoro doesn’t retaliate because he doesn’t have the right to. He draws out his swords and remains silent the whole time.

 

The side of Sunny took quite the hit, and even though Luffy repelled most of their cannonballs, the marines, somehow, managed to board their ship. It’s not something they can’t handle, but if Zoro paid attention enough they wouldn’t even have to in the first place.

Sanji sighs. It’s not time to place blame on someone, Nami and Robin are upstairs and he needs to protect them. A sideway glance shows him Frank moving targets out of his way by blowing fire, and Chopper using his Second Point to throw the marines out into the water. Alright, they can do this. Besides, if it gets bad, they can always resort to Coup de Burst but that’s something not going to happen with small fry.

Suddenly, he finds himself face to face with five marines, and so, without thinking, he stands on his hands and starts spinning, tossing kicks and managing to send the marines flying; the small victory doesn’t last as something in his healing shoulder snaps and he loses balance, landing on his side with a hard thud. He groans while nursing his shoulder because the shot of pain is too agonizing to be normal.

He tries to straighten his arm but another shot of pain filches all color from his face, leaving his pasty complexion glistering with sweat –

A wet slash…

“What are you doing, you idiotic cook!” Zoro’s voice roars above the bombing of cannonballs and the screaming of marines with swords and rifles. He’s just sliced a marine’s back, an enemy who was aiming to slice Sanji. “Get up. My hands are full here; stop daydreaming.”

Sanji, hating to be in the man’s debt, swallows his groans and slowly lifts up. “If you paid more attention, we wouldn’t have been in this situation in the first place!”

Fuming, Zoro turns a scathing glare his way, “are you going to blame me for this too?”

“I don’t have to, you shit head.” Sanji shows he isn’t deterred by the scary glare. “You always mess things up.”

Zoro strikes another marine without even sparing him a glance, now slowly approaching Sanji. “I wasn’t the one lying here, basking in the sun and waiting to be sliced!”

“I handled them!” Sanji berates, “And I could have handled him too –”

“You two” Luffy, voice low and final, “that’s enough” –looking at Franky now, he adds– “use Coup de Burst to get us out.”

 

After the ship lands somewhere far away from the marines, Luffy jumps down from the figurehead and heads towards Sanji and Zoro, who are standing there, silent and angry. The rest watches as Luffy makes a fist and punches Zoro, sending him crashing against the wall behind. Nami slaps a hand on her mouth to keep from gasping out loud.

“Oi, oi Luffy” Usopp attempts to soothe thing over, “there’s no need for that.”

“Shut up!” He bellows, his fisted hand by his side, twitching to hit something else. He uses his other hand to pull a perplexed Sanji by the collar. “Do you know what happens to pirates who belittle their enemy, they die.” He spits out at his face, “so unless there’s some sort of point you’re wishing to deliver, I suggest you leave your bubble and stay focused. There isn’t just you two here. If one of you messes up, the entire ship will sink. Do you understand?”

Wide eyes roam in Luffy’s, before Sanji nods. “Yes, captain.”

After a pause so scary and heavy with tension, Luffy frees him, his face already brightening up. “Good, now let’s go have our breakfast.” Saying so, he stretches his rubber hands to the railing upstairs and gushes on about the food he’s going to be eating after a good exercise, the others following suit. Chopper tries to linger, hating to leave those two alone again, but Brook ushers him to let them deal with whatever they have, which he eventually does.

 

Sanji takes out another cigarette, but he doesn’t light it this time. He stands there, listening to Zoro growling and sitting up.

“He didn’t have to hit so hard.” He says, rolling his jaw to attest the damage.

“You said you didn’t mind pain.”

“I don’t.” Zoro deadpans, “but it’s different if it’s your captain delivering the punch.”

“You deserved it, you bastard.” Sanji sighs and turns towards the staircase. “I guess I should thank you. You saved my bacon back there” –just as Zoro utters something about ‘happy to oblige’, Sanji speaks again– “We’re even now.”

Zoro behind, still on his rear, smirks triumphantly.

 

In the afternoon, Sanji ambles towards the sick bay when no one is looking, eyes the stack of medicine bottles and picks the one for pain. He leaves feeling like a dirty thief.

Thankfully, when he was making breakfast, it just so happened the opportunity helped and he prepared curry as well so he wouldn’t worry about lunch. Now, however, he has to start dinner and he thinks honey glazed chicken wings is a good choice.

The throb in his shoulder from earlier has ebbed with time since he kept drinking that medicine like sake, and he finally feels no pain again. Whistling, he brings some onions from the basket to the sink, and as he washes them under the gushing water, the door to the galley opens. He assumes it must be Luffy here to steal some snacks, but he is a little surprised to find the swordsman in his chest-revealing shirt and black pants.

Sanji remembers how, in the past, he would taunt Zoro by making fun of his muscles and the two would end up making love on the counter. He shudders, stills then shakes his head… there’s no point in remembering all that.

 

Zoro’s keen eye takes in the moment Sanji stills but quickly resumes doing whatever the fuck he always does standing at the sink. He eyes his hunched back, slender sides and long neck, and he is seized in the clutch of want again. What starts as a wine hunt ends with him pressed up against cook’s back, muscled arms at either side and braced on the counter–

“What’ you think you’re doing?” Sanji’s voice is stoic, modulated and steady.

‘Imagine him crying your name out’ Zoro’s mind provides, and soon, he is placing his palms on those slender sides. “What’ you think I’m doing?”

Sanji closes the tap and places his hand on the edge of the sink. “I think you’re pushing your luck.”

Zoro can’t see the scar from his angle, and besides, the damn shirt doesn’t have buttons. Zoro ducks anyway and takes a lungful near Sanji’s pulse point, his lips slowly sucking on the skin.

 

Sanji loses himself in the unbelievable feeling with his orbs sinking behind his head and his lungs exhaling. “Zoro…” he says faintly, his hands going to the ones on his hips. “Stop…”

Zoro, however, presses up more against him, his tongue going to the other’s ear. “You don’t want me to stop.”

Sanji, as though having a moment of epiphany, he removes Zoro’s hands and wrenches himself from that hold. “What part of stop don’t you get, tch, I guess Luffy did hit you pretty hard.”

Zoro only stares on at him.

Blushingly, Sanji tucks his hair behind his ear and looks away. “I told you, it’s over. Don’t do this again or I’ll kick your ass back to Alabasta.”

Without a word of argument, Zoro takes the bottle of sake he must have placed there earlier, and leaves.

Sanji brings a hand to the side of his neck, sighing at the memory of Zoro’s tongue and lips on it…

 

Zoro walks up to the figurehead where Luffy is eying the horizon, sake in hand, a smirk on his lips.

 

Sanji recovers from whatever that was and returns to his onions, after peeling them, he starts slicing them but then notices something odd about his hand. It starts with a slow tremor in the tips of his fingers. He clenches his hand into a fist and then palms it out, picking the knife again to slice the onions; but what only was mere tremors becomes violent trembling. He notices his breathing also picking up steed as he watches his hand shaking uncontrollably.

“This isn’t happening,” he tells himself, and reinitiates, “this isn’t happening…”

But it is.

The trembling becomes worse every time he holds the knife, and he doesn’t know how he does it, but he manages to slice the onions into larger pieces.

 

It starts with a comment spoken nonchalantly by Franky, and then Sanji changes.

At dinner table, they talk about the next island and about shopping, before Franky speaks through a mouthful.

“Don’t you think these onions aren’t chopped right?”

 

Zoro doesn’t know what was about Franky’s comment that just flipped the switch, but ever since then, Sanji hasn’t been leaving the kitchen a lot, been more irritable than usual and, worst of all, hasn’t been tending to Nami and Robin as he always does. Zoro noticed the change, as he is sure everyone has at this point. In fact, Franky, with their friends’ push, went up to apologize to Sanji once but the man denied being affected by his comment, and that he’d just been feeling like he needed to make up for the time he wasn’t allowed in to the kitchen.

Bull.

And what happens that evening proves it.

 

Sanji has been cooking their meals relying on his left hand more, because, for some reason, his right hand just doesn’t stop shaking. He tried meditating, exercising, using force, but nothing has managed to actually stop the tremors. His friends don’t know, and neither does Chopper who should be informed. Sanji is scared, however, that if he tells him, word will get out and everybody would learn that he is a useless chef.

As he stands there beside the counter after failing to hold the knife again, Sanji’s frame starts to tense as his thoughts race miles in an hour; he ran away from home to be a cook, to feed the hungry, survived being stranded in that island and learned from the best. He managed to get this far. He has only a few to finally make his, his mother’s and Zeff’s dream come true and now this happens; his hands… his most important tools –he chuckles, long and dark– after all these years, he’s getting delayed by his own hands. Is this some symbolic thing, and Sanji has to let go of his dream and see something worthwhile in this pile of unlucky horseshit! Why does he have to give up his dream, why can’t he be what he wants to be –in that moment, all logic skips him and everything becomes pointless; his hands, his kitchen and even his own dream.

He fists his hands and starts trashing everything in sight, hitting them and sending them across the room, breaking glass. Sharp shards go into his skin, tearing it and causing crimson blood to splutter everywhere. He roars, because he can’t cry, because he knows it’s too late for him…

 

Zoro is on the deck, conversing with Frank and Usopp about the new weapon the two were thinking of building together; some sort of teaming up so the two could get over what happened before. Brook is singing some stupid ballad with Chopper, on Robin’s lap, listening to him. Luffy is on the figurehead, with Nami standing close by and they seem to be talking about something. Then, they hear it; violent crashing coming from the galley, followed by a scream which just sounds so despaired.

“What the…” Usopp cuts himself off when Zoro, not listening to him anymore, rushes towards the stairs.

 In four, maybe less, leaps, Zoro finds himself inside the galley, or what used to be because everything looks messy. The food on the floor, the broken pieces of glass and marble, the spilled wine which Zoro still can’t tell if it’s really wine or what he’s scared it would be –another vigorous crash brings his attention to Sanji, who is lifting a glass bottle overhead, ready to send it flying somewhere else. Zoro’s eye catches the splashes of blood on both of cook’s arms, and in a flash, he is in the man’s vicinity, gripping both his wrists.

“Are you out of your god damn mind!”

Luffy charges in, followed by Nami, Brook and the rest, and as they take in the new makeover of their kitchen, they suddenly become aw-struck by Sanji’s intermittent roars.

“Cook,” Zoro hisses, “Get a grip, for fuck’s sake.”

Sanji squirms, and the bottle eventually falls from him but lands on the floor, adding to the mess. “Let go!” he wails, his voice husky from all the roaring he’s been doing.

“Calm down, cook, what the hell is wrong with ya!” Zoro’s berates, keeping the wrists in his hold.

“Sanji” Chopper sobs, tears streaming down his small face.

Zoro lurches forward and slams Sanji against the wall, hooking both his blood-spluttered arms overhead as the blond keeps on trashing about.

“You took it!” he wails again, “You took it anyway so leave me!”

“Luffy, what should we do!” Nami is soon shaking her captain’s shoulder, “we have to do something!”

He doesn’t reply, and, in fact, he doesn’t say anything at all.

“Cook,” Zoro says through gritted teeth, “just calm down, alright? You’re scaring everybody here.”

Sanji shakes his head, making his tears flutter everywhere. “Get off!” he screams, “You have no right, God, you have no right!”

Franky attempts to dash towards them but Luffy is already stopping him with his hand, “it’s between them.” He speaks at last, looking at Chopper now, he adds, “We might need to sedate him though, just be ready for anything.”

With his mouth pouting to stifles his tears, Chopper nods and vacates the kitchen area.

“Hey, hey” Zoro interjects Sanji’s sobbing, hysteric blabber, and then his voice mollifies more, falling into a whisper “hey, cook, come on, why are you doing this to me?”

Sanji tosses his head to the back, hitting the wall, and as though he finds some relief in it, he does it again and again, until Zoro can’t stand to watch anymore and, instead of holding Sanji’s arms overhead, he wraps his around the cook and frames the back of his abused head. He senses Sanji trying to recoil so he squeezes him, and so the blond starts to hit him; still, his hold doesn’t let up until he feels Sanji clutching at his back with all his might. Zoro feels the longing all the way to his bones.

“Just… say something.” He growls into the other’s ear. “Tell me what to do!”

“..ro ….” Those are the first things Sanji says in the calmest way.

“What, what did you say?” Zoro pulls away just enough to look into the tear-smeared face. “Say that again.”

Sanji suddenly breaks into tears, sniveling and all that. “You ruin me, always, Zoro, but I just… I can’t let go…”

What is Zoro supposed to make of that?

“I hate you!” Sanji seethes, but his hiccups takeover his voice again, “you ruined me, you continue to ruin me, but I can’t let go.”

“Then don’t.” Zoro beseeches, returning his mouth to Sanji’s ear. “Don’t let go, alright? It isn’t easy for me either. I’ve been losing my mind thinking you hated me, but I deserve it, after what I did to you…”

Sanji’s been blaming Zoro for everything that has happened, everything. He’s been feeding that thought until it somehow became a conviction, and that’s what’s been giving him a reason to stay away. But when Zoro just out right admits that everything is his fault when he knows it isn’t, Sanji loses his will to fight. He knows that even if Zoro wanted to save him back then, he couldn’t, not with their captain facing the threat of dying.

Sanji guesses that he’s been keeping this up because he wanted Zoro to repent; he doesn’t know what the right word is, but the moment Zoro utters those words, Sanji’s anger dissipates, just like that.

“I’m a selfish bastard,” Zoro speaks on, “I know I’m unbearable, but, cook, you know I trust you in the battlefield.”

It takes Sanji a moment to decipher the meaning, and when he does, he starts laughing, like a maniac. So everything so far, everything he’s felt, the suffocating anger and the twist of envy, all that was for nothing? He laughs and laughs.

Zoro pulls away, grimacing and smirking at the same time. “Well, glad you find this comical.”

“I’m surprised you don’t.”

Zoro then takes Sanji’s hands in his rough ones, covered in cuts and blood. “Why did you do this?”

Sanji’s laugh abates, and then he frowns at the room, finally returning his eyes to his own battered hands. “I…” he starts, “I can’t cook.”

The other scoffs, “yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t.” Saying so, he brings his trembling hand up, “it’s getting worse every day.”

Zoro scowls at the trembling hand, “let’s have Chopper take a look at it.”

Sanji shakes his head and slowly slides down, squatting. “No way,” he says, looking up with his puppy dog eyes. “What if they find I can’t cook anymore? What if they decide to bring some other guy to cook their meals, I won’t be able to stand it, Zoro.”

Zoro crouches down as well, “You’re our cook, our stupid, stubborn, sexy cook, one and only.” He says on a serious face, “Stop worrying about unnecessary things and go get your ass checked.”

Like he said before, there’s only black or white in Zoro’s dictionary, so if he says that Sanji is their one and only cook, that’s what he really believes; and just for now, Sanji is not going to taunt Zoro about that and actually heed his warning.

“My ass’s been safe.” He jokes anyway, slowly lifting up.

Zoro lifts up as well, “not for long though.”

 

Zoro was thankful to find nobody in the kitchen when he turned to leave. Now, he is sitting on the padded chair, watching, along with Luffy and Brook how Chopper cleans the cuts marring Sanji’s fair skin.

“You should have come to me, nonetheless of what you think, I’m still the doctor.” Chopper, with his high-pitched voice, sounds like a baby crying for candy.

“Sorry” Sanji says, “I had my reasons.”

“Because,” Chopper counters, “if you did, I would have confiscated the medicine you stole.”

Zoro perks up, and Sanji looks downward in shame.

“You stole from his cabin?” Brook marvels, “Sanji san, that’s a bad thing to do.”

“What was it for?” Zoro demands.

“To relieve pain.”

As they look at Sanji for an explanation, he recounts, with a defeated sigh, the details that led him to steal the bottle of pain medicine.

“Sanji,” Chopper says, now finishing wrapping Sanji’s hands in gauze. “A while ago, I had to replace the old medicine bottles, and because of what’s been happening, I didn’t have the time to empty what’s in that bottle you took. What you’ve been drinking wasn’t a painkiller, it was an energizer.”

He gawks at him.

“The medicine makes you too energetic, it causes insomnia, fast heartbeats and shaky hands,” he continues, “To put it simply, the medicine is what’s been causing you these essential tremors.”

“Does that mean his hand will stop shaking if he stops taking the medicine?” Luffy asks the million dollar question.

“Yes, of course.” Chopper replies simply.

For the second time that day, Sanji laughs like a maniac.

 

 

 

The bustle of merchants and clients soars up in the air, reminding Sanji of what it’s like to be on land, with people other than his shipmates. He finally locates what he came especially here for, and then he nags over his shoulder for Zoro to tag closer so he wouldn’t get lost and this little trip would go to waste. He pays for the room from the extra money Nami ‘accidently’ added to the grocery fees.

He and Zoro walk into the room in this modest love hotel, with Zoro throwing empty grumbles about the stupid décor, which Sanji can’t help but agree with, before he is pulling the man by the collar and falling back on the large bed. He doesn’t care about the décor, he is more interested in this guy.

Zoro leans over him and takes his lips in his; it starts with a kiss, it always does. He kisses him as though the other times on the ship were just him messing around and this is the real thing. He kisses him so deep and long and good that, when he pulls away, Sanji looks up at him looking drunk.

“Oh,” he gulps his and Zoro’s drool, “wow.”

Zoro atop him flashes a cheeky grin, “we’re just getting started, my prince.”

Sanji traces the outline of his upper lip with his tongue, his hand going to the swordsman’s bulge. “You’ve got only two hours to impress me, bastard.” He says, “Let’s see it.”

 

Zoro has started the habit of nibbling at the scar whenever they’re having sex, and it’s not like Sanji minds, but he gets it. That’s Zoro’s way of apologizing. Sanji’s reaction is always the same, he twists a hand to Zoro’s hair and always either moans or whispers, ‘it’s alright, it’s alright.’

It’s going to take time, they both know. But it took only less for them to go back to how they were, and even better. Zoro is more expressive during sex. He doesn’t just unload and take a nap like he used to do sometimes; he makes sure Sanji is also satisfied.

 

As the man snores and drools all over Sanji’s chest, the latter takes this private moment to cherish what he almost lost because his feelings and loyalty had been half-assed. He rakes his cut-covered fingers through the soft mane of hair, loving how Zoro, instead of barking at him to lay off, he mumbles ‘I’m going to abuse your ass hole if you don’t stop’, which Sanji believes is a huge improvement; well, this is Zoro he’s talking about after all.

Sanji whispers into his ear on a grin, “I’m not stopping.”

 

 


End file.
